Gracie lay wide-awake until she heard Aunt Elizabeth’s door close, then wiggled out of bed, grabbed her pillow, and went back into the closet, quietly closing the door behind her. She could breathe again. She felt safe tucked in the back corner, hidden in the darkness. She wished she had the bear Mrs. Arnold had given her.
Aunt Elizabeth took Gracie to Sunday school. Mrs. Spenser used a felt board and talked about Jesus loving children. She put a little girl next to Jesus. Gracie kept looking at that felt figure. Daddy used to hold her on his lap sometimes and ask her questions. “What did you and Mommy do today? Did Mommy talk to anyone? Tell me the truth, honey.” When Daddy finished asking questions, he’d say, “Good girl,” kiss her cheek, and tell her to go play.
Would Jesus hold her on his lap and ask questions, too? Would he want to know everything Aunt Elizabeth did? Gracie had no idea what her aunt did all day.
“Grace?”
Startled, Gracie focused on Mrs. Spenser. “Yes, ma’am?” Her heart pounded. She was supposed to pay attention to her Sunday school teacher. Aunt Elizabeth would ask Mrs. Spenser if she had. And now she didn’t even know what Mrs. Spenser had said.
Mrs. Spenser’s expression softened with a smile. “Do you know Jesus loves you, Grace? Just like that little girl standing beside him on the felt board.” She put up another figure. “He loves little boys, too.” She winked. “Even rascals like Tyler.”
Gracie’s heartbeat slowed. She listened intently to every word Mrs. Spenser said after that. When people started singing upstairs, Mrs. Spenser put away the felt figures and told the children to gather their sweaters and coats. Big church was over, and their parents would come soon.
The other children had all gone by the time Aunt Elizabeth came. She apologized to Mrs. Spenser, calling her Miranda. “Everyone wanted to know what happened back in Tennessee, as if it’s any of their business.” Aunt Elizabeth glanced at Gracie sitting alone at the table. “How did she do this morning?”
“She was a perfect angel.”
Aunt Elizabeth’s mouth curved into a sad smile. “Maybe there’s more of my sister in her than that—” Mrs. Spenser put a hand on her arm, and she stopped. Aunt Elizabeth shook her head. “Come along, Grace. Time to go.”
On the drive home, Aunt Elizabeth asked what Grace had learned.
Gracie thought about the figures on the felt board. “Jesus loves boys and girls.”
“I’m sure you already learned that much in the church your mother attended. What story did Mrs. Spenser tell you this morning?” She looked in the rearview mirror and scowled. “You didn’t listen, did you? Mrs. Spenser works very hard to put together lessons. You’re not there to play. You’re there to learn about God. Next time, pay attention. I’ll be asking Mrs. Spenser how you’re doing, and I want to hear good reports. Do you understand?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Don’t call me ma’am. Call me Aunt Elizabeth.” When Gracie didn’t respond, Aunt Elizabeth glared at her in the mirror. “Did you hear me?”
“Yes, m—Aunt Elizabeth.”
“All right. We understand each other.” She came to a stoplight. Her hands relaxed on the steering wheel. “I’m not trying to be mean, Grace.” She turned a corner. “I know you’re not happy.” She flicked a glance in the mirror before refocusing on the road. “Well, neither am I.” She fell silent as she drove on. “I’m going to do my best, and I expect you to cooperate.”
Gracie didn’t know what cooperate meant.
Aunt Elizabeth seemed able to read her mind. “Cooperate means you do what I tell you when I tell you. No dawdling. No daydreaming. No arguments. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Aunt Elizabeth.”
Gracie learned to make her bed with hospital corners. She learned to use the vacuum. She folded the bathroom towels exactly the way her aunt taught her. She cleared dishes, but wasn’t allowed to wash them because Aunt Elizabeth didn’t want any of her Villeroy & Boch broken. The only thing Gracie could not get right was her hair. She brushed it, but couldn’t get it into a proper ponytail. Every morning, Aunt Elizabeth had to take it down, rebrush it, and put it back up again.
One morning, Aunt Elizabeth lost her temper. “That’s it.” She took scissors out of a drawer, yanked the ponytail up, and cut it off right under the tangled rubber band.
Gracie uttered a gasp of pain and burst into tears, knowing Mommy would be very upset. She always said she loved Gracie’s curly dark hair. It’s wavy, just like Daddy’s.